


Close To You

by Anonymous



Series: Point Problems [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, scoring slump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sid experiences a scoring slump. It's starting to get to him.





	Close To You

“Can I sit here?”

Geno swings his attention from his phone to Sidney who is standing in the aisle with his carry on over his shoulder.

He looks as unsure as Geno has ever seen him with his eyes darting around the plane and shuffling from foot to foot as their teammates bump into him to get around.

Geno stares dumbly at him and Sid huffs out an impatient breath.

“Geno.” He rolls his eyes. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“Can I sit here? If you don’t want me to it’s fine, I don’t really care I guess, just thought I’d ask but-.”

“Sid.” He pushes his stuff off the seat and onto the plane floor to make room for him. “Sit. It’s fine. Sit.”

Sid gently kicks at Geno’s bag until it’s under the seat then sits down and drives Geno up a wall when he doesn’t say anything else.

He settles in and pulls out a book and looks like he actually pays attention when the flight attendants tell them about the emergency exits, like he hasn’t heard it hundreds of times before.

Geno waits, because he’s always the most patient with Sid, and waits some more but Sid stays quiet.

Halfway through the flight he falls asleep on Geno’s shoulder and Geno carefully avoids the look he gets from Tanger.

 

-

 

At breakfast In Winnipeg Sid is half a step faster than Rusty when he sets his plate down next to him.

Geno looks up at the two of them, mid chew, and swallows down his scrambled eggs.

“Okay,” Rusty says slowly and sits down between Conor and Jake.

Everyone around them is quiet as Sid pokes at his bacon.

Geno clears his throat and makes fun of Phil’s hair and how it’s getting long again.

Reaves throws an arm around Phil’s shoulders and keeps the joke going and soon all awkwardness is gone, lifted from the table like it was never there.

Sid says nothing while he eats but every time Geno looks at him out of the corner of his eye he’s worrying at his bottom lip or staring off into nothing.

It’s unsettling and Geno knocks his knee against Sid’s beneath the table.

No one sees, no one knows.

Sid doesn’t do anything for the longest moment but then he presses his knee back into Geno’s and downs the rest of his ice water.

 

-

 

After the game he sticks close to Geno out to the bus.

Sid walks so close he slams into him when Geno stops short and pats his pockets trying to find his phone.

His phone is in his pocket and Sid’s hands are on his back.

They’re warm and strong through Geno’s coat and he apologizes softly before he lets him go and steps around him and waits in line to board.

Sid’s sitting in the seat next to Geno’s with his forehead resting against the glass.

He looks small and sad and Geno thinking about taking his hand and rubbing it over his head. Trying to soothe away the headache he knows is forming behind Sid’s eyes.

Geno has one of his own threatening to break out at his temples but it seems so insignificant in the face is Sid’s discomfort.

But then the doors close and the bus rumbles to life and he’s forced into his seat as it makes a sharp corner out of the parking lot.

Sid folds even further into himself and Geno’s head and heart start to ache.

 

-

 

Sid smiles when he sits beside him on the flight to Calgary but after, on their way to Vancouver, he bites at his thumbnail and only hums in response to all of Geno’s lighthearted questions.

It doesn’t get better and the elevator up to their rooms is silent and heavy.

Sid is the closest to the door and Tanger keeps giving Geno looks over Conor’s head.

When the doors open and everyone files out Tanger grabs his arm and holds him back.

“Is Sid okay?”

Geno stares down the hallway at Sid’s retreating form.

Jake tells him goodnight and Sid barely even acknowledges him. Thankfully Jake doesn’t look too put out.

“He’s…you know,” he says with a shrug. “He’s Sid.”

Tanger looks like he wants so much more than that.

Geno just wants to go to bed.

“We lose, he’s upset. You know him as well as I do.” He ignores Tanger’s raised eyebrow. “You know how he gets.”

“He’s been quiet and moody. Worse than usual.”

“Well, we lose more than usual.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Then talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“He doesn’t talk to me.”

“No, but he’s always, you know, close to you. Always sitting beside you. Touching you.”

“He doesn’t touch me.”

“You think I don’t know you guys play footsie at the breakfast table?”

Geno blushes red from the tips of his ears and all the way down his neck. “Don’t know what you mean. What’s footsie?”

“Cut the bullshit. You two are close. He’ll talk to you if you ask.”

“Talk to you, too.”

“Geno,” Tanger snaps then looks around, but there’s no one to hear him. “Could you just please?”

He rubs unconsciously at his chest, the same place his A is sewn onto his jersey and Geno knows what that feels like.

It felt heavy when he first wore it too. Like a phantom weight when he took it off.

“Okay. But when I think it’s right. Maybe he’ll come to me. No pressure. Don’t force me.”

Tanger puts his hands up. “That’s fine. That’s all I ask. Try to get some sleep. It’s an early flight tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” He sounds unconvinced as he takes a step backwards towards his room. “Usually you’re not but okay.”

“Fuck you,” he says through a smile.

Tanger waves happily and turns around.

 

The right time turns out to be ten minutes later when Sid knocks on his door.

Sid is standing in the doorway in sweatpants and a sweatshirt looking down at his feet.

Geno still has his dress shoes on and his tie loose around his neck and he can’t look away from the way Sid’s eyelashes are splayed against the top of his cheek.

Neither of them have actually said anything and Geno steps back to wordlessly let him in.

“Was going to take a shower,” Geno says as he shuts the door. “Don’t like the smell of the soap in the locker room.”

“Okay.” Sid nods towards the wooden chair that’s tucked beneath the desk next to the dresser. “I’ll wait. It’s that’s okay?”

“Sure. Anything.”

He doesn’t move from the spot he’s standing in until Geno ducks into the bathroom.

It’s the quickest shower he’s ever taken. Just enough to get the sharp chemical smell of cheap soap off his skin before he pulls on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

He keeps his room warm and Sid has seen him in so much less.

He has moved from the chair to the bed when Geno steps out of the bathroom.

Sid is perched on the edge with his hands clasped in front of him.

“You staying?” He asks and mostly means it as a joke.

He needs Sid to shake his head and laugh it off.

Instead Sid looks up at him with big, sad eyes. “Is that okay? I think I feel.” He breathes in an out slowly. “I think I feel better when I’m near you.”

Geno stutters out a yes and Sid pulls his legs up and grabs for the covers.

It feels like it’s a mile to the other side of bed but Geno makes it there and slips in beside him with a deep sigh as the mattress cradles his bones.

The radiator clicks a few times as it churns out heat and he thinks he can hear a TV turn on next door but it’s all drowned out by the sound of the covers shifting as Sid moves closer and puts an arm around Geno’s waist.

“I don’t know what to do,” Sid says into the darkness and Geno clutches at his arm, holding him there. “People are going to start to talk.”

“About what?”

Sid props his chin up on his shoulder. “I haven’t gotten a goal-.”

“Oh, Sid.”

“What? They’re going to start pointing it out and asking me about it. I can’t even imagine what they’re saying about me online.”

Geno winces. It’s not good. But that’s not particular to Sid.

“Droughts happen.”

“Not to me.”

“Human, Sid. Not robot.”

Sid makes a frustrated noise.

“Could be worse.” Geno gives into the temptation that’s been plaguing him and digs his fingertips into Sid’s hair. “Could be Coyotes.”

“Oh god.” Sid pushes himself up so he can look down at him.

Even in the dim light Geno can see every color in his eyes. They look brighter than they have in awhile. _Fond._ He touches the side of Sid’s face.

“We have to beat them,” Sid says. “If we lose on Tuesday.”

“Won’t lose.” He taps the tip of his finger to Sid’s bottom lip. “Score a goal just for you.”

“Since I can’t do it myself?”

“It’ll happen. Even if you don’t think it will.”

Sid falls back to his side and Geno kisses the top of his head as he hears his breathing even out.

Over a decade a go Geno never thought that playing in America, playing with Sid would happen. He didn’t think about Cups or parades or rings with diamonds.

He didn’t think the cute boy with curls and soft hands and wide eyes would ever look at him with half the affection that Geno looked at him with.

He never thought he’d be in his bed wrapped around him as he drifted off to sleep.

Geno holds him a little tighter like he needs to prove to himself that this is real.

Sid’s arm tightens around him.

“It’ll happen,” he says again.

Good things always happen.


End file.
